


The advent calendar

by pleasebekidding



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Advent Calendar, Christmas, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2013-12-02
Packaged: 2018-01-03 06:01:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1066887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleasebekidding/pseuds/pleasebekidding
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Scott and Isaac are adorably clueless, Stiles is a relationship guru (sort of) and there's chocolate every day for 25 days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The advent calendar

Things Isaac didn't know about Christmas at the McCalls': there’s a tradition regarding advent calendars.

Melissa has been buying Scott and Stiles an advent calendar for years. Scott's cool with it because it's Stiles, and he doesn’t need to be that cool around Stiles, and Stiles excited about chocolate is the best thing ever. But Scott and Isaac get home from school one afternoon and Melissa has put three advent calendars full of chocolate up on the bookshelf: one for Stiles, who'll catch up every couple of days, one for Scott, and one for Isaac.

Scott pales. "Mom!"

Melissa shrugs, and goes back to reading her magazine. "When you stop eating them, I'll stop buying them."

Isaac can't stop looking and looking because he hasn't had a real Christmas since his mom -

Well anyway, it's November 29. So not yet.

\--

Sunday, December first, Melissa glares meaningfully at the calendars. Isaac can't think about it; he's thinking about the way his knees bump against Scott's under the table.

"Oh, go on," she says. It's chocolate, there's no downside!"

It's awful supermarket chocolate in the shape of a Santa head, waxy and grainy at once, and it's also probably the best thing Isaac’s ever tasted. Later, Melissa kisses his forehead, same as she does Scott’s, on her way to a night shift at the hospital, and Isaac sort of almost wants to do his trig homework. He doesn’t do it, but it’s a good first step. They’re stuffed to the gills with leftover turkey and pumpkin pie, half-sedated on the couch, when Scott smiles in a way that makes Isaac genuinely hope he’ll survive past twenty-one.

\--

Wednesday, December 4, Isaac gets a skinny candy cane shaped chocolate and Scott gets a huge fat bell-shaped chocolate. He laughs. “If I was nicer, I’d swap,” he says, as he shoves the chocolate in his mouth and Isaac wonders if it would be alright to kiss him.

\--

Friday, December 6, Isaac and Scott spend hours in the hospital waiting to hear that Lydia will be alright. By unspoken agreement, neither eats the chocolate that day. She’s battered, but she’ll be okay.

\--

Sunday, December 8, Isaac lies on his bed with his eyes wide because he can’t stop wondering what would happen if he kissed Scott.

\--

Monday, December 9, Stiles drives Scott and Isaac home and eats nine pieces of chocolate and drinks two pints of milk from the fridge and sprawls across every surface. And _what is it about broody guys,_ and _Isaac, trig’s not that hard, why didn’t you ask me?_ And _I miss Derek. ’d’you ever notice the way he sniffs me? Doesn’t even creep me out._

It’s nice. It’s almost as nice as the way Scott, sitting almost too close on the couch, radiates heat, and wouldn’t it be nice if Isaac was allowed to loop an arm around his neck and kiss his throat, like they’d been doing that for years?

Stiles’ eyes narrow, and Isaac freezes. Is Stiles psychic?

Shit, Stiles is psychic.

Stiles looks from Isaac to Scott. “Anyway – I have to go leave sad letters in Derek’s mailbox.”

“Derek doesn’t have a mailbox,” Scott answers, but Stiles is tenacious.

“I nailed a Wolverine lunchbox to his front door,” he says, hanging his satchel over his shoulder and glancing one sad time more at the advent calendar. “Sayonara,” he says over his shoulder. “Hey, Isaac, seize the day, idiot.”

The door slams.

Scott turns to look at Isaac. Worse, Scott bumps his wrist against Isaac’s wrist. “What did that mean?”

“Dude, ninety percent of what that kid says is completely beyond me,” Isaac answers, and then they have to reheat Mexican food and do homework and sleep.

\--

Tuesday, December 10, at 3 o’clock in the morning, Isaac turns over for the seven hundredth time because he can still feel the exact shape of Scott’s wrist against his. “Fuck my life,” he says, and then laughs because his life has literally never been this good.

\--

Thursday, December 12, Derek comes home and the very first thing that happens is, Stiles slaps him. Derek chases Stiles to his car and no one sees either of them until Sunday. Scott looks wary and nervous and all Isaac can think about is how much a blowjob chills him out, but he doesn’t offer.

\--

Sunday, December 15, it’s Scott who gets a skinny candy cane and Isaac who gets the great big bell. Really, it has to be three times as much chocolate. Isaac is tall but Isaac always feels that much taller, when he’s looming over Scott. It gives him an awesome sense of responsibility. He presses his chocolate into Scott’s hand because he wants to see Scott’s dimples, and Scott rewards him well.

Those are some fine dimples.

Isaac isn’t sure exactly when he fell in love with Scott but he’s reasonably sure that he is, indeed, in love.

“Not that into chocolate anyway,” he lies, and wanders into the kitchen so he can’t pin Scott to the wall.

Scott isn’t fooled. But he eats the chocolate.

\--

Monday, December 16, at five minutes past midnight, Isaac buries his face in the pillow because his brain is a porn reel that hasn’t stopped in the last six hours and he is going to lose his mind. He jerks off, but wishes he didn’t have to.

\--

Tuesday, December 17, Scott gets a call from his dad to say he’s not coming for Christmas after all, and even though Scott has made it abundantly clear that he loathes his father, and didn’t want to spend any part of Christmas with him, his eyes get very shiny and round. He goes to his bedroom.

Isaac piles his lanky frame up onto a bench at the breakfast bar.

“I wish he’d just stay away,” Melissa says.

“Me too.”

“I mean every boy should have a father -” Melissa covers her mouth. “I’m sorry.”

“No. Don’t be. He might have contributed DNA but that doesn’t make him my father.” Isaac huddles, and listens to the sound of breathing from Scott’s room. “No one ever lets you say this. But most days I’m glad he’s dead.”

Melissa knows better but she also knows there are things that need to be said so she smiles.

“Don’t let him hide in there all night,” she says, as she collects her handbag and keys and heads out the door.

The other thing that happens on Tuesday, December 17, is that about ten thirty, Isaac opens the door to Scott’s room, without knocking.

“Get out,” Scott says.

“No,” Isaac answers, and he lies alongside Scott on the bed, and they sleep.

\--

Wednesday, December 18, at six thirty nine in the morning, Isaac wakes with his body curved around Scott’s body and a raging boner and he gets out of there fast.

\--

Thursday, December 19, Isaac is about to fail English because he can’t do his homework because he can’t understand subtext. Subtext? The fuck is that? He sits at the dining table with his head in his hands because he’s reasonably sure he’s not an idiot but what, this is a story, it says what it says. Scott calls Stiles because no one can really afford to get close to Isaac in this mode and Stiles’s sense of personal space is non existent and for whatever reason not even Isaac can object to Stiles much.

“It’s about reading what isn’t there,” he says, and Isaac inexplicably wants to punch him.

“You can’t read what’s not there.”

“Yes you can. So Victor is supposedly in love with Berenice. Right? But the author was a fag in the early 1800s when that was so far from okay. These days, he’d skip Berenice and actually come out with the fact that Victor, whose very best friend the unattainable, famously handsome bachelor Henry, was the one he was in love with.” Stiles shoves chocolate after chocolate into this mouth. “Forget what they _say,_ ” he says, as he chews. “Think about the way he looks at Henry, the way Henry looks at him.”

Isaac stares at the page, and reads a paragraph with this new knowledge in his head.

Yeah, okay, he gets that. Shit.

“And kiss Scott. The entire world has blue balls thinking about you two.”

Isaac snaps up and looks around, but Scott is gone.

“He went to the store. And you’re a dumbass. Get it done.”

Isaac curls his lip down, suddenly and acutely miserable.

“Does everyone know?”

“Everyone but Scott, who’s a bigger dumbass than you.”

Isaac stares for a long moment. “You smell like Derek,” he says, as Stiles stands, stuffing things into his backpack.

“Because I got it done,” Stiles says, and he does laugh, at last. “When you first showed up I sort of hated you, like you were stealing my best friend. But I didn’t lose a friend, I just gained another dumbass. Isaac? Get it done.”

Stiles smiles so sweet. Isaac gives a nod (or maybe it’s just some weird jerk of the head). “Thanks for the homework stuff.”

Stiles eats Isaac’s 19th piece of chocolate before he goes.

\--

Friday, December 20, everyone goes bowling because why the fuck not. Werewolf coordination and reflexes means it gets a little ugly at times – the humans insisting the wolves are cheating, but how are they supposed to avoid that? At least they’re divided equally among the teams.

Derek doesn’t play. He broods. He still hasn’t told anyone but Stiles where he was, what he was doing.

Back home, Isaac pours glasses of milk and raids the pantry for cookies. Chocolate chip, score. He smiles and Scott smiles and it's all very smiley and then, because of the smiles and because bowling and because why not, Isaac reaches for Scott’s face and angles it up so their lips can meet. It’s not much of a kiss, as far as kisses go. It’s just experimental. He just wants to see if Scott is cool with it.

Scott blinks several times, and then he smiles.

“Sorry,” Isaac says, and he really feels incredibly tall, and ungainly, dropping his hands to his sides and taking a step back.

“Don’t be sorry,” Scott says. “Fuck, don’t be sorry.” And then Melissa gets home, and eats cookies with them and sends them to bed and Isaac doesn’t even crawl out of his skin.

\--

Saturday, December 21, a little after one in the morning, Isaac wakes because the door to his bedroom opens. Scott is standing there, which is great because for several moments Isaac had been sure it was his father, come back from the dead to beat him for some imagined slight.

“Is it okay?” Scott sounds unsure. Isaac pulls the bedspread aside, and Scott shuts the door, and crawls under the covers. There’s at least a foot of space between them, and it’s dark but their eyes are bright and it’s all very confusing.

And Isaac is half hard. Damn it.

“I don’t know what…” Scott bites his lip, and that’s Isaac’s job. Without knowing how it happened, exactly, he’s on top of Scott, pinning him possessively to the mattress, cock pressing into the divot of Scott’s hip, rubbing like he doesn’t know how to stop, and Scott’s tongue is heavy in his mouth. It’s way too much and all at once and it’s perfect, too, and Scott angles his hips up so Isaac can get his boxers off, like it’s something they’ve been doing for years. He groans and twitches as Isaac kisses his way down Scott’s body, memorizing the slight variations in scent, the mild sweat, the musk of Scott’s balls, the bitter, stark scent of pre-come dripping from the tip of his cock.

Isaac is greedy, too enthusiastic, tries to swallow Scott down whole, and soon discovers that his enthusiasm does not match his capacity, quite. He looks up apologetically, swiping his tongue around the tip, but Scott’s eyes are closed, and he’s biting his lip, and he doesn’t look like he wants any sort of apology.

He feels small in Isaac’s arms, later, when Isaac wraps himself around Scott’s body and they sleep. His Alpha, the true Alpha, that Isaac feels inexplicably bound to protect.

\--

Sunday, December 22, Melissa shouts as she heads out the door, “I’ll be home by six. I want this house clean and dinner on the table.”

Scott mumbles something, but he doesn’t really wake, and he doesn’t try to get out of Isaac’s arms.

“And don’t think I don’t know you two shared a bed last night. We’ll be talking about that tonight.” And the door shuts, and they both sit up suddenly. But that means looking at each other, too, and yeah, okay, that’s all Isaac really needs to get started again. Isaac holds Scott down on the bed as they jerk each other off and Scott smiles with his entire face and Melissa won’t be mad; probably she wants to give them some safe sex talk.

\--

Monday, December 23, Isaac goes by himself to the mall because he’s reasonably sure he should get gifts. He doesn’t have a lot of money. He needs a job. But in the meantime, he’ll manage.

He’s staring at very large cubic zirconium earrings in the window of a jewelry store (whatever, they look like diamonds to Isaac) when Lydia and Allison flank him. Lydia laughs, and Allison shakes her head, meets Isaac’s eyes, and says “no”.

They take him to a nice kitchen store where the twenty bucks he can afford to spend on Melissa becomes a pretty plate, sort of Christmassy but not so Christmassy she couldn’t use it other times.

“What about Scott?” Allison asks.

Isaac shrugs. “I suck at this.”

Lydia cocks her head. “You fucking him yet?”

Allison looks like she wants to disappear into the ground, but Isaac like Lydia. Likes her no-nonsense thing. She calls a spade a spade. Isaac gives a cautious shrug. “Gave him a blowjob,” he says, entirely sanguine.

“An economy sized bottle of lube and a copy of ‘gay sex for dummies’ seems appropriate,” Lydia says. “Or maybe one of those friend necklaces that you break in half?” But she helps him pick out a knotted leather bracelet with shells on it that she clearly doesn’t like but that they all agree Scott will love.

Lydia even helps wrap the gifts (they look sort of tantalizing, like that, like they’re not even crappy) and Allison drops him back home after. She bites her lip, and Isaac hesitates, with his hand on the door handle.

“I hope it works.” She looks like she’s telling the truth.

“Me too.”

She takes a breath like she’s got more to say, but only smiles, so Isaac goes.

\--

Tuesday, December 24, Isaac and Scott are making out on the couch when Melissa gets home from the hospital. There are definitely buttons undone and hands where they shouldn’t be and she yells as she’s walking past; “you have bedrooms. One each. Have the decency to not commandeer the couch.” But the house is clean, anyway, and they’ve remembered to stick the turducken in the oven early enough and Melissa looks more traumatized than mad.

The chocolates that day are both in the shape of hearts, and they’re huge. It’s a good day all round.

\--

Wednesday, December 25th, at around one in the morning, and with Melissa most definitely asleep, and dinner eaten, and gifts still under the tree for the morning, Scott and Isaac push boundaries.

Scott tastes good. His skin. Some unearthly blend of salt and pheromones and just Scott. Isaac wants to hold him down with his teeth. His Alpha. His. He should lie back and let Scott possess him but no, he won’t, because a loose-limbed and pliant Scott is the best thing Isaac has ever seen. They work slowly, just a pair of kids trying to work out what feels good, and it turns out it all feels pretty good. The mechanics of it all are still a little foreign but it’s okay, there’s no rush. Google, the font of knowledge about all things, will surely provide whatever information is needed to work out how the hell one gets tab A into slot B. For now, they touch and rub against each other until everything is a sticky mess, and Isaac feels like an Alpha himself. The sounds he draws from Scott’s throat are really the best thing ever.

Isaac covers Scott’s body with his own, hold him still and steady, heart beating so hard he thinks Scott might actually be able to hear it.

“Can I sleep in here?”

“Yeah.” Scott nods, like he’s relieved, and it’s so weird. Isaac doesn’t think anyone’s really been glad to have him around before now. Being a werewolf isn’t all fun and games, no, but it’s still the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

\--

And hours later, as the sun’s getting ready to go down, when Melissa has headed back to the hospital, everyone shows up, like they've been drawn in. One by one, and in pairs; Derek in a sweater Stiles absolutely must have picked out for him just to see if he’d wear it, Allison with tears drying on her cheeks because she misses her mother so much it physically hurts her. Cora arrives and she’s quiet, too, which is okay, they still don’t know what Derek and Cora did while they were away but they know it wasn’t a vacation. The gaps are even worse. Erica and Boyd should be there. The couch fills up, everyone squished in close, and Scott makes no attempt to conceal or deny what’s going on, which is nice. The twins arrive with fearful looks, but things are different now and if Derek is pack then Ethan and Aiden are, too. And besides seeing Danny’s face light up makes it worth the mild discomfort Isaac gets around them.

Isaac looks fifty times at the brand new watch on his wrist; he’s never had anything but a cheap Casio before. Melissa gave it to him like it was the most normal thing in the world. Scott sees him do it, and grins, pressing against Isaac’s side, and Isaac presses his lips to the back of Scott’s ear. They watch a couple of shitty Christmas movies, Scott leaning back against Isaac’s chest and bundled in his arms, and if things are bad, they’re not as bad as they could be. Magic of Christmas, and all of that.

Stiles finishes his own advent calendar and helpfully eats the last of Isaac’s and Scott’s, too. Oh well.

**Author's Note:**

> I blame [Michael.](http://thelasthalebeta.tumblr.com)


End file.
